


Death of a Bandersnatch

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: After the war:How do you explain someone like Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, his life, his death, especially to children?  Well, if you are dealing with the children of Haven, the Newkirk/Carter/O'Donnell kids, it might be easier than you think.  In fact, though it was a long story, it could be boiled down to one fairly simple, easily understandable statement, delivered by Peter Newkirk."See, this 'ochstetter, 'e was a Bandersnatch, you know, like in 'Through the Looking Glass'.   A right nasty one through and through, and though 'e was a right bloody beast, and dangerous as 'ell, well, 'e pissed off your Mum something fierce, and you KNOW 'ow she gets!!"  Yes, that pretty well told the story.





	Death of a Bandersnatch

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Garrison's Gorillas fandom is included only because of the tie-in with the GG story 'Pursuit and the Art of Saying 'No'', involving Black Dog Enterprises and Hochstetter's connection and final destination. This story is actually a Prequel to that story. The GG guys do not actually appear in this story, though Meghada O'Donnell and her sisters, Coura and Ciena do.

The children born to Caeide O'Donnell and Peter Newkirk and Andrew Carter didn't grow up hearing 'Goodnight, Moon', or 'The Velveteen Rabbit,' or 'The Little Engine That Could', not even from their earliest days (although 'Alice in Wonderland' was a prime favorite, as was the sequel).

No, they were told stories of Sweet Mother Erdu, Faoiltiama and Takleishem, of Medara ru Dragan, the Red Duchess, and about Adjar d'Shantai. They learned about the Spirit Quest and what that quest could reveal. They heard the traditional songs and stories of great cunning and daring and sacrifice, of love and caring and lives lived according to Clan custom. They knew about the fae and the many other beings who weren't quite human but could still play a part in people's lives, some for good, some for ill. They heard about, had been introduced to the Old Ones while they were still babes in arms, gurgled at those august presences in their nursery.

They heard stories of the Sioux Indians, as well, from their Daddy Andrew, and stories of London's East End from their Da, Peter.

They learned newer stories, too, about Burg Saaleck, much to the pleasure of Jin and Gao who had experienced thewhole story firsthand, and an Enchanted Forest in Germany, and one about the Siren's Children, and the Mansion Twins, and an Empusa and an Owisa who'd hunted in the wrong territory and had paid a price for doing so, and ever so many more born from the war that had so shortly preceded their births. They heard the story of the Ravens and a Bluebird and a Brown Fawn, about a Dragon and her sister and their revenge. Stories of bravery, stories of danger, stories of love - stories of Family and Friends.

They learned that the Outlanders thought differently than Clan, had different ways, and while those thoughts and ways were sometimes interesting, and knowledge of those thoughts and ways was essential, those did not override what they learned was expected of them as members of Clan O'Donnell. They learned 'ally' does not always mean 'friend', and 'adversary' does not always mean 'enemy'. They were learning to judge by what was inside a being's heart and soul, not by the clothes or uniform or the shape they wore, or the fine words they spoke, or the smiles on their faces. 

And with all else they were learning, it was only natural that they would get around to asking their parents about the scars, for each of the three bore their share - Peter, their Da, far more than his share.

"Da, how did you get this one?" gentle fingers tracing the scar along his cheekbone, the deeper one above the mirrored one below.

Peter kissed Kat's small hand, straightened her red curls, "that one I got from a Bandersnatch, name of 'ochstetter, pet. Nasty thing 'e was, too!"

"Did you kill it, Daddy Andrew, that Bandersnatch, for hurting Da?" Karl's brown eyes were fierce as he turned his gaze at Andrew Carter, the small boy being as like Andrew as could be.

Andrew's answer was a little rueful, more than a little remorseful. "No, it got away that time. And it was aiming his, uh, claws, at me, not Peter, at least then. Your Da put himself in the way to protect me." 

No one seemed surprised at that for some reason, probably because it wasn't the first time they'd heard such. Well, Peter Newkirk HAD rather made a habit of that, still did when the circumstances demanded. Thankfully they didn't arise nearly so often now as they once had.

Jamie and Louisa were frowning, "well, it'd better not come HERE looking for Da OR you, Daddy Andrew," Louisa declared, her face, so like her mother's, those brown eyes glittering in response, furrowed in determination. "We'll protect you both, we will."

"We know you would, but there's no need to worry about that, 'Wisa-luv. Your mum, she already took care of the Bandersnatch. Got on 'er wrong side, 'e did, tried to put the snatch on your Daddy Andrew and yours truly! Do you all want to 'ear bout 'ow that 'appened?" and the fast gathering of small bodies closer around Peter's chair told him that, yes, they certainly did! 

Jamie, his blue-green eyes shining in a face a clear copy of Peter's, whispered to the others as Andrew refilled their cups with cocoa, and his and Peter's with something a mite stronger, "shoulda known! No way Mum would put up with any nasty old Bandersnatch trying for Da or Daddy Andrew!! Right pissy she'd get, I'll bet!!!" his brother and sisters nodding firmly in agreement. Well, they'd seen their mother in action a time or two, the last time when a wild boar had showed up and cornered Jamie near the horse corral. Pissy wasn't even the word for it!

Peter Newkirk and Andrew Carter exchanged a wry grin, for truer words had never been spoken!

 

Peter had waited for this for a long time. Oh, Mavis and her husband had visited them at Haven, but he hadn't been back to London in so very long, except for that fast trip in to settle some finances; Andrew had accompanied him on that trip, ended up getting himself all upset in the doing. They'd visited some with Mavis and Ben, but nothing like a real visit, with time to do a good lookaround. First the war, then the 'misunderstanding' with the RAF. Then Hogan's interference. 

Now, finally he was London bound, ticket in hand. Ian had offered to fly him there, well, him and Andrew and Caeide, but Peter had felt, for some reason, he needed to take the same route he'd taken when he'd first arrived here. So they had all caught the train and now were headed to the place he'd lived the first part of his life, the place he'd always figured he'd spend ALL of his life. 

He read the newspapers, had his letters from Mavis. He knew things would be different from what he remembered, both from his youth and from that illness-hazed time when he'd returned. He expected to see changes. Whatever he was expecting, though, it wasn't what he found - a Bandersnatch straight out of his nightmares.

If it had happened right at the beginning, he might have thought it was an illusion brought on by the shock of returning to this place. But it hadn't. The three of them had gotten nicely settled in at a small hotel where Caeide was welcomed with open arms and glad cries by the proprietor, Henri Marchant. Some shopping done, a night at the theatre for a comedy they all thought they might enjoy, and they made plans for the next day. 

Peter and Andrew would be driving up to see Mavis, and by necessity, her husband Ben. They could have done without Ben, but since he worked out of their house, avoiding him didn't seem too likely. Mavis had already ruled out meeting them somewhere as "just being rude, Peter! Call me when you know when you'll arrive and then you come to tea. You and Andrew and . . . Well, you and Andrew, yes?" Oh, well. 

Actually, they'd intended for it to just be the two of them all along, so at least Peter didn't have to explain to Caeide that she was preferably NOT to come. In fact, as far as Ben was concerned, if ANYONE from Haven HAD to come calling, he'd prefer it was just Andrew, but that would have defeated the whole purpose of the visit, being how it was Mavis and Peter who were the sister and brother.

Caeide was NOT going with them, no, had never planned to. She and Ben got along about as well as she and Mavis did, knew Andrew would be better at smoothing away trouble than she would be, and she didn't feel her being there would make things any easier on anyone. She intended to stay in London, work on the long list of books she wanted to browse so she could decide what to order in the coming year. 

"You just can't tell from the descriptions they put in the catalogues they send out, you know; you really have to thumb through them, or at least look through the dealers' catalogues!" 

Myerson's, the bookstore she preferred, never minded her coming in on her very rare trips to London, taking hours in her browsing; the clerks tended to show up with coffee at the far corner table where she made her nest, roped off the area when she left for lunch so she didn't have to pack things up again. Well, considering the frequency of her and her family's orders, that was only good business, but truthfully, it was a pleasure for them to see anyone who took such enjoyment in their wares, and in such a wide variety of them. There were enough people at Haven, with such diverse interests, the order lists were sometimes quite amazing in their scope.

She was joined at 11:30 by her next younger sister Meghada, with the next two sisters, Ciena and Coura, arriving not ten minutes later. Myerson's was a favorite with them all, and they were taking good advantage of Caeide's rare trip to London to spend some time together. 

"Especially with Peter and Andrew headed to visit Mavis; not that we don't love the guys, ALL the guys, we do, but it's a treat for it to be just the four of us," Ciena proclaimed with a laugh.

Meghada agreed, adding, "ESPECIALLY when it's for fun, not for some dire reason."

Their younger sister gave a mock pout, "but we work so WELL together. Are you sure there isn't SOMETHING dire we can share while we're here?"

"Don't tell me you're bored with domestic life already," Caiede teased.

"Oh, no, but a little excitement, something to write in my diary. "Dear Diary, my sisters and I saved London from a rampaging troll, in between shopping for books and having lunch. The curry at Indonesia House was quite excellent, though they COULD add more green chilis." That got a shared laugh.

And that was only the first of the laughter; the sisters always had done well together. After lunch, it was another couple of hours at Myerson's, then a visit to Marik, the metalsmith the Clan favored, off to see what Alphonse might have in his shop to interest them, and so on. Dinner, then a quiet evening in the hotel suite talking over old times, getting caught up with each other's lives. Even breakfast held its share of laughter, with Meghada sharing the latest mischief her guys had gotten up to.

Soon they weren't laughing anymore. Not when, at 8:15, the phone rang with a message from Peter, delivered via Mavis and then the London contact for the Clan. Andrew had been grabbed by a Bandersnatch, Peter was hurt and headed to Ian's place for help, but had not yet made it there. Ian had already been alerted and he and Jeffrey were scouting the area to see if they could locate him. While that reference to a 'Bandersnatch' might have appeared delusional, or at least cryptic to anyone else, Caeide had heard Peter and Andrew refer to a Bandersnatch in their history more than once. One by the name of Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, Gestapo.

 

It was easier than they expected, Hochstetter not understanding just who or what he was dealing with. Almost as easy as Hochstetter had thought the operation was on HIS side. 

Oh, spotting those two former prisoners on the street had been just pure luck, but he found himself remembering all the times they and their leader had played him for a fool, and he leaped at the opportunity to pay them back. He figured his current employers would never find out, and possibly wouldn't much care if they did; well, after all, they'd hired him, hadn't they.

That little dart gun Black Dog Enterprises had provided him with allowed him to stun both men without much trouble, and since he'd caught them just as they were getting into their car, he was able to shove Peter out of the way and take his place behind the wheel and just drive away without being seen. So far, so good, and the smile on his face was chilling in its malevolent intent.

That abandoned section of houses had provided him with the perfect setting for some prior operations, and now seemed just the place to enact a little revenge. He remembered them so well, especially the Englishman. That ever infuriating Englishman. And he had such plans for the both of them. Plans that no one would be interrupting, not General Burkhalter, not Kommantant Klink, certainly not Colonel Hogan. Not this time.

Jeffrey had spotted the blood first, calling to Ian. Their first sight of the crumpled body wasn't very reassuring, other than the fact that they could see Peter was still breathing. But there was blood, quite a bit of it, on him and pooling beneath him, and carefully turning him over onto his back showed someone had been very busy indeed. 

Jeffrey glanced over at Ian, and said what was going through Ian's own mind. "Your sister is going to go ballistic!" Yeah, no doubt about that. 

The quick questions they put to the injured man as he slowly became aware of their presence gave them a clue as to Andrew's whereabouts, but truthfully, the bloodtrail would have led them there anyway. By the time they got the car to get Peter to the hospital, the sisters had arrived. Jeffrey took over ambulance duty, while Ian headed out on the hunt for Andrew and the Bandersnatch.

Backtracking Peter to that abandoned house hadn't been too difficult, not for them. From there, Hochstetter had only bothered to move down three houses after Peter had made his way free. He hadn't even bothered to disguise the faint blood trail, not that he truly could have, not from these pursuers. 

Peter had been highly agitated when he realized he was being left behind, but bitterly had to admit, at least to himself, that he would only slow them down. Hochstetter had done enough damage even he'd thought Peter was helpless, enough he'd turned aside to head to the next room to let Andrew join the fun. 

"Bloody 'ell, don't even know if Andrew's still alive, Jeffrey! And 'ere I lay, like a ninny!" he agonized. He didn't bother blaming himself for crawling away, making his way out, finding a way to get help. There was no way he would have been able to take Hochstetter, and although it was a vile pill to swallow, he'd accepted that, had done what he could do to get help for Andrew instead of going after the bastard like he'd wanted to and getting them BOTH killed and probably allowing Hochstetter to waltz away free. 

Jeffrey didn't bother with platitudes, didn't bother to offer false assurances. He DID offer what he could, what he knew with all his heart. "You can trust the sisters to do whatever can be done, Peter. Caeide loves Andrew, you know that. Well, they all do, don't they now? Just as they do you."

 

Hochstetter had been keeping at least one ear open for the sounds of anyone approaching, and perhaps if the ones stalking him had been other than who and what they were, he would have heard them. Well, Meghada was still in woman-shape, there not being enough space for her to do otherwise, and besides, she had a few words to say to the Bandersnatch if the opportunity arose. Ian kept his more usual form as well, needing to have that aid kit with him, along with a couple of loaded revolvers. But they'd held back while the remaining three sisters closed in before they made their move. 

Those three, they were in their shifted form, and were able to slink through the shadows without a sound. Until they slid into the room where Hochstetter was once again employing the skills as an interrogator he had so relished during the war, but this time without the purpose of extracting information, only revenge, pain and eventually death.

Then, while the man's attention was still focused on the battered and bloody half-conscious Andrew tied to that chair, they let the low growls start to seep out between their slavering jaws, allowed their sharp claws to click on the wooden floor. 

Startled, Hochstetter turned, to find himself surrounded, a woman in the doorway, three wolves completing the circle. He grabbed for his gun, only to have a russet form leap and grab his wrist, crushing it between strong teeth. He screamed, in anger as well as in pain, but the scream died in his throat as the woman spoke, her voice with an odd hissy rasp underlying the words. 

"Major Hochstetter. You have no idea how long overdue this meeting is. Ian, will you see to Andrew, please? Now, Major, let me introduce myself and my sisters. In particular, my OLDEST sister, Caeide," smiling at the russet colored wolf that had crushed Hochstetter's wrist and was now gazing at his throat hungrily. "Peter and Andrew's wife, you know. I believe she has a bone to pick with you." That smile grew and grew, shifted as the woman's head formed into something out of a nightmare, but something still capable of speech, "a great many bones to pick, actually."

From the gobbling noises coming from Hochstetter's throat, the sight was more than a little disconcerting.

Ian moved around the group, reaching Andrew, pulling him and the chair back out of the way. Cutting the ropes, he eased Andrew down onto the floor; it wasn't sanitary, but it did give him better access. He'd tried to put himself between the man and action, but Andrew had weakly pushed at him, protested, "no, I have to see. I have to be able to tell Peter." 

He'd then cast wide panicked eyes at the O'Donnell brother trying to access the damage. "Peter is alive, alright, isn't he?" 

Ian had given a reassuring smile, if a rather grim one. "He's alive, Andrew; managed to get to us for help in getting you free. He took some damage, but he'll heal, just as you will. Just as THAT one WON'T," glancing back to the others. 

"No, I didn't figure he would," Andrew agreed, watching the four sisters terrorize, maim, then slowly dismantle the Bandersnatch, not wanting it any other way. He never turned his head away, not once.

 

Maybe it wasn't justice enough for every scream he'd elicited from a victim, every whimper from an unfortunate caught in his web. Maybe not. Maybe there just WASN'T a fate that would be justice for all that. 

But it was more than any international court of law could have dealt out. It was not quick, it was not easy, and was limited only by Caeide knowing she had to get back to the two men of her heart who had, once again, fallen into the grasp of this man with no soul. She would have to be somewhat satisfied by that. 

Still, one small part of her regretted the Family prohibition against necromancy; it would have been highly satisfying to bring Hochstetter back to at least a semblance of life every few months, enact justice once more. 

"Of course, Peter and Andrew might disapprove. Perhaps. And anyway, the Grandmother would have more than a little to say about my being THAT overly self-indulgent," Caiede grumbled to her sisters over a drink in the private suite of that small hospital where the Clan still maintained a strong presence. She was waiting impatiently til she would be allowed to visit Peter and Andrew again.

"Well, and there's that story about M'Laina d'Shantai, who DID allow herself that self-indulgence, and that just did NOT go so well, remember," Coura cautioned. 

Coura had spent a goodly amount of time working in the archives of the family records, more than most, and knew an amazing number of the more obscure stories most would perhaps not.

She elaborated, "all those stray body parts creeping around for more than fifty years, turning up in the oddest places. Even I would hesitate to go that far, after reading all that, and you know, I don't hesitate at very much," gaining a snort of agreement from her older sisters. 

With their family's long history, and the multitude of stories and legends, you never knew just what to believe or disbelieve, but there was no harm in playing it safe. Besides, there were children at Haven; she had to consider them. And the livestock.

"Did the rest get taken care of, the clean-up?" Caeide asked. She had, of course, been too taken up with Peter and Andrew to pay much attention to any of that.

"Oh, yes," Coura grinned, "and the Grandmother was quite pleased. She's been looking for a way to impress the reality of Wyvern's Nest and the inadvisability of annoying us on the new man in charge at Black Dog Enterprises. Callen Jones didn't have any doubts about that, having had a few experiences with us before, but with him gone, she wanted a new hook for this Mackenzie Drake. I imagine her returning Hochstetter, ah, Walter Korman, to him, personally, just should do it. Imagine, taking an ex-Gestapo officer on as an operative; makes you wonder who ELSE they have in their ranks!" she snorted in disgust.

Remembering those four dufflebags with their plastic-enclosed contents, the others had to agree this might be just the right hook. Even a sociopath like Drake was supposed to be just might sit up and take notice at the return of one of his men that way.

Meghada smiled in satisfaction at the whole picture. She was more than pleased she'd turned down the many appeals to fill the role of Grandmother; it just wasn't for her, and she was more than satisfied with her life as it was. Still, it was an important position, a vital one for the Clan, and needed the right person, and she felt they had that in the young woman they'd once known as Ruena.

For there was a new Grandmother now, the one they'd known all their lives having decided to semi-retire at ninety-seven and pretty much turn things over to Ruena, her chosen Heir. Meghada thought the Grandmother-Exante couldn't have made a better choice. Ruena was just as intelligent and forceful as the previous Grandmothers had been. Her temper was in keeping with her predecessor's almost legendary one. Her sense of humor was considered even more wicked. And the results of her undergoing the mandatory 'Second Spirit Quest' after being chosen made her appointment seem quite appropriate. 

After all, one of the many names the Clan was know by was 'Wyvern's Nest', and Ruena, the new Grandmother, turned out to be exactly that, a Wyvern, in all her glory, and the first given to the Clan in many, many generations. Truly there must be interesting times ahead!

Caeide had remembered to send a message to Mavis, that Peter and Andrew had been rescued, but that the visit would have to be rescheduled. Right now, all she wanted was to get her lads taken care of properly, then home, safe within the confines of Haven, where any other villains from their past would have a much harder time trying to hurt them. Neither man gave her any argument about her agenda. Somehow, home, their family, had never looked sweeter.

 

"So, that's 'ow it was, you see," Peter finished the story, a satisfied smile on his face. 

Jamie had a thoughtful look on his face. "Ei, da. Any OTHER'S we need to keep an eye out for? Mum might 'ave taken care of THAT one, but don't intend to lose either of you to any others neither. And you DO tend to piss people off, you know," came in a knowing tone of voice, both the observation and the tone seeming incongruous in one so young. Well, in anyone other than an O'Donnell, of course. 

Peter looked slightly offended at that observation from their oldest son, especially with the snorts and snickers of laughter coming from Andrew and from Caeide, who'd just joined them a few minutes ago, and Jamie's brother and sisters.

"Well, it's true, love. You just seem to have that effect on some people," Caeide reminded him. Andrew would have agreed with her, but he was still trying to catch his breath from the laughter. {"Yeah, Peter always HAS had that knack!"}


End file.
